Night Owl
by indigoru
Summary: The boys of Weiss have to go undercover at a nightclub for a mission. There are a few things they must do first, though.
1. Default Chapter

Late Night Owl  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiss. Well, maybe Ran. *sees men in black suits rapidly approaching* No! I take it back! Don't bring out the lawyers!  
  
Chapter One: Breakfast at Weiss's  
  
"Good morning!" The inappropriately cheerful Ken chimed from his post at the stove when Omi walked into the kitchen they all shared. "You like your eggs scrambled, right? If you don't, it's too late, anyway, though." Omi goggled at him briefly beneath his half-closed lids. Who in their right minds, he wondered, was so cheerful in the morning? Obviously, Ken was not in his right mind. In reply, the youngest member managed to mumble a response that he hoped sounded something like an affirmation and some kind of greeting before he yawned and stretched.  
  
Obviously surprised at the lack of pep that was normally in Omi's voice, Youji looked up at him from where he sat at the table, drinking coffee. Uncrossing his legs, he stood up, and went over to inspect the younger male. "Chibi, you stayed up all night staring at the computer screen again, didn't you? I mean, you've got bags under your eyes! You'll never get a girl this way!" Catching his reflection in the toaster (In addition to being a cook, Ken was also a neat freak. Once a week he made them all clean and polish everything till the house shone. Why Aya hadn't brought out his katana on him yet was a mystery to the two blondes.) Omi saw that he did indeed have light purple smudges under his eyes. It took him a few seconds to realize that Youji was still talking to him.  
  
"It's illegal to visit those websites when you're under eighteen. I already told you this months ago!"  
  
Shaking his head slightly, Omi said "And I still don't know what the hell you're talking about." Strangely enough, this was true. It always puzzled the other blond how someone who spent so much time on the internet had not accidentally run across the type of websites just mentioned. "But," Omi conceded, "I did find out information about our target."  
  
"Our target can wait," Ken told them as he carried plates to the table. "You," he declared pointing the spatula pointedly at the other two, "Are going to eat breakfast. One can't concentrate on a target on an empty stomach."  
  
"Yes, mother," Youji replied in a mockingly sweet tone as he headed towards the plates. "We wouldn't *dream* of doing otherwise."  
  
The brunette nodded and folded his arms across his chest. "Good. Now eat." Somehow, he had never really caught on to the idea of sarcasm.  
  
Omi stood near the doorway a second longer, blinking. Aya, who chose that moment to stagger down the stairs and enter the kitchen, was still three- quarters asleep, instead of half-asleep like Omi. This would be why he bumped head on into Omi.  
  
"SHIN-NE!" he shouted, automatically switching into battle stance and reaching for his katana. Not finding it at his side, the redhead looked down at his hands, then where it would be kept, and looked around, realizing where he was. "Hn." Aya then returned to a normal standing position and proceed to walk further into the kitchen like nothing had happened.  
  
Aya, their fearless leader, who was always cold and collected, and had vengeance practically running through his veins, was not a morning person. Normally extremely observant, during the AM hours the redhead was occasionally somewhat fuzzy on where he was and who the people around him were. This would explain his confusion. Also an interesting fact was that cold leader liked Lucky Charms. This was evident in the way that he grabbed a bow of the said cereal, and sat down with a carton of milk, a bowl and a spoon.  
  
Calmly, Omi sat down to eat his cooling eggs. This sort of thing was not unusual in the morning around here. Youji, on the other hand, was not nearly as cooperative. He informed them all that he couldn't eat any more (after taking one bite) because he was on a diet. The chicks, he said, didn't dig pudgy guys.  
  
The following conversation went something like this: "Youji, you're going to sit down, and you're going to eat those eggs! They're good for you." "Aw, c'mon KenKen! It's not that big of a deal!" "You know, the girls aren't going to like you much-" "Of course they're going to like me, Omi! They always *adore* me-" "-If you weigh less than they do." "-Except for that one time, but how was I to know that she would be there when I was with."  
  
Youji slowed down as what Omi had said sunk in, and thinking about this, realized that was probably true and sat back down, ignoring the snort that came from Aya's corner of the table.  
  
"Good!" said Ken happily. "Now that we have that settled, what did you find out, Omi?"  
  
"Phmine dout?"  
  
"Ew! That's disgusting! Didn't your mother ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?!"  
  
Omi glared at Youji, swallowed his eggs and tried again. "Find out?"  
  
"About the target, of course!" chirped Ken.  
  
Aya, on the other side of the table, again wished for his katana. Morning people bothered him.  
  
"Oh, yeah," said Omi sheepishly. "Well, I finally found his blog, late last night, and-"  
  
"What's a-" both Ken and Youji started at the same time. Automatically they started to play a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to decide who would speak.  
  
Aya rolled his eyes. Morning people and stupidity. This was not shaping out to be a good day. Not waiting for them to finish with their ridiculous games, he asked the question himself. "What is a blog?"  
  
Ken and Youji both momentarily considered glaring at Aya for interrupting them, but wisely decided that it probably wouldn't be good for their health.  
  
Omi, on the other hand, found himself staring at all of them. "What is a blog?" he repeated weakly. Three pairs of eyes stared back at him, and their owners all nodded.  
  
"Does it have anything to do with cute girls?" Youji wanted to know.  
  
"Or," Ken asked, "soccer?"  
  
Aya said, "Hn."  
  
"A blog," Omi started to explain to his evidently clueless allies with admirable patience, "Is something like a journal that a person writes in online."  
  
"That's not sensible."  
  
Omi glanced at the redhead. "Why not?"  
  
"Everyone can read it, and they know precisely who wrote it, and they can go hunt the individual down and then kill them and everyone close to them in their sleep," the older man said, surprising everyone with his long speech. Realizing this, he then glared at everyone extra hard, daring anyone to comment on his unusual amount of words. No one did.  
  
"Because it's on the on-terrr-net," added Ken, who evidently felt the need to elaborate further. "Right?" The technical expert in the group winced at the brunette's evident lack of knowledge with even the most basic computer lingo.  
  
Youji, who sometimes used the computer in the basement on the sly to visit some of the "interesting sites" that he teased Omi about, chose not to venture a question of his own. "Um, I'm with them," he managed, when he realized that Omi's gaze had turned to him, obviously expecting him to have a question, too.  
  
Staring at them once again, the blond wondered how anyone could be so computer illiterate. Ken was just plain clueless. But, come to think of it, Aya asked an almost intelligent question, actually.  
  
"If you don't post- er, write down where you live or supply your name, then people have no clue who's the author. Most people don't. Although when you sign up for a blog, that sort of stuff part of the required information- the form you need to fill out when requesting a blog. The webmaster or mistress- um, the people who are in charge of the site keep that information confidential and under tight guard, though." The young assassin took a swig of orange juice before continuing. "That was what made it so hard to find the blog of our target."  
  
"So accessing this information is illegal?" Aya asked him while glaring at him through narrowed violet eyes. His eyes were always like that, though.  
  
"That's right," Omi said, nodding.  
  
"And you found out his location from it?"  
  
"Oh, no. He was smart enough to fill out weird answers like that. They won't let you leave it blank, but they don't really check it out too thoroughly, because I'm pretty sure he doesn't live on the moon," The young blond said cheerfully. "But it allowed me to find out whose blog it was, because he entered his name."  
  
Suddenly, Youji got an idea. It was a brilliant one, according to him. "Say, Omitichi," he began in his best wheedling voice. "Since you can find out all sorts of personal info, could you look into a few lovely lady frien- "  
  
"No."  
  
"So, what did you find out from his bloog-thing, Omi?" asked Ken.  
  
The man in question decided the ex-soccer player was a hopeless cause. "Well, you know how he's doing his thing at night clubs? I found out he's going to the Night Owl sometime next week. It's a pretty big place, so I figure we all ought to be there undercover."  
  
"Do you realize what this means?" Youji suddenly asked with a malicious gleam in his eye.  
  
The rest of Weiss turned to look at him, fearing his answer. The last time he had that look on his face.  
  
"Not that," Omi pleaded.  
  
"Anything but that!" added the brunette.  
  
"Undercover outfits! I must start planning out them immediately!" the lanky blond announced with an obvious pleasure that, according to the others, was sadistic.  
  
The cry of "SHIN-NE!" echoed throughout the neighborhood as Omi and Ken did their best to refrain the livid Aya from strangling Youji (who had not noticed and was muttering to himself about who should wear what.)  
  
I didn't know what a blog was either, until a year or so ago. But Omi is just so in-tune with the online world that it doesn't occur to him that other people might not know what a blog is. Anyway, tell me what you think! REVIEW! OR I'LL- I'LL DO SOMETHING REALLY BAD! YEAH, THAT'S IT! 


	2. Black Leather and Nosebleeds

Late Night Owl  
  
Disclaimer: I've been trying for a year or so now, but I still don't own the Weiss boys. It's quite sad.  
  
Chapter Two: Black Leather and Nosebleeds  
  
"Oh, come on, Omi. It's not so bad. It'll be fun," Youji said convincingly.  
  
"I don't know." was the younger man's muffled reply. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea."  
  
"Who's to know? This'll just be between you and me, kid. No one else has to know."  
  
The door that Omi was hiding behind opened a crack, and a blond head peered out. "Well, Aya and Ken will know." He nodded his head towards where the other two were waiting.  
  
"Ah," sighed Youji with a dismissive wave. "Who are they gonna tell? What kind of reasoning is that, chibi?"  
  
"Don't call me that!" was the automatic response the tall blond was looking for, and the one he got.  
  
"I won't," he said, "If you come out. Chibi."  
  
"Come on, Omi!" said Ken. "The rest of us have to do it, too. Nothing to be embarrassed about.  
  
There was plenty to be embarrassed about, thought Omi as he slumped his shoulders and came out of the dressing room.  
  
That's right, dressing room.  
  
The members of Weiss, the white hunters of evil men, the fierce assassins who all had some sort of revenge of some sort driving them (and who were all very good at angst-ing, one might add) were at the mall.  
  
Youji was having the time of his life; Ken didn't seem to mind; Omi seemed to be feeling slightly uncomfortable; Aya seemed to have gone into sensory overload.  
  
Why were they at the mall?  
  
Because the lanky blond had dissected all of their closets and said that nothing that any of the other members owned were right for going under cover at a night club ("Aya, really. You *cannot* just wear an orange sweater!").  
  
Anyway, Omi stepped out of the dressing room rather (extremely) tentatively.  
  
The older man who had been encouraging him muttered one word. "Damn." And actually, that summed it up quite nicely.  
  
Ken stared. Then he said, "Actually, the dark blue top wasn't that bad, after all."  
  
The remaining member of Weiss didn't say anything; he just kind of stared.  
  
See, the innocent kid who had (been shoved) stepped into that room (while protesting) carrying a pile of clothes came out looking pretty different.  
  
"Come on, Omitichi," Youji said, placing a hand on the younger man's back and gently steering him to the three way mirrors so he could see his reflection from many sides. "This way. And stop trying to scramble back to the dressing room to hide. You look great; after all, *I* picked out those clothes."  
  
He dragged the reluctant Omi over to the mirrors, where he peeked out from behind his hands.  
  
Omi (though he may not really know it) was pretty good looking normally. Ask just about any of the girls who hang around the shop. But his normal look would not be suitable for clubbing. He looked too sweet, too innocent.  
  
The blond he saw in the mirror looked older, more dangerous, sexier.  
  
It must, he decided, be the black leather.  
  
"Now all you need," said an enthusiastic Ken, "is some red streaks in your hair! We'll have our own little raver!"  
  
Not, of course, that Ken knew what a raver looked like.  
  
"Red," the oldest member said with a dismissive wave, "is passé."  
  
From across the room, Aya glared at him. Red hair, in his opinion, was *always* in style.  
  
Continuing, Youji added, "Now, what we need is. black streaks. We can get them done after this"  
  
"But I don't *want* s-" the not-so-innocent-looking-anymore blond began.  
  
"Nonsense! It's as good as done, Omitichi. You can thank me later," Youji interrupted smoothly. "You there!" He cried, gesturing to the saleslady. "We were having a difference of opinions about what color of hair dye would should use on our friend here, and we were wondering what you thought."  
  
"Well," she said drawing nearer, "Let me get a look. I'd have to say-" She stopped suddenly.  
  
"Say what?" asked Aya, looking down at her.  
  
"Uh, Aya? She just had a nosebleed when she got a good look at him and passed out from blood loss," said Ken gently.  
  
"Well, I think that's a sign she would've said red."  
  
The other three members turned to stare at Aya. "And I think that's a disgusting way to decide," Youji said finally.  
  
"See, that wasn't so bad, was it, Omi?" Ken asked hurriedly in an obvious attempt to try to change the subject.  
  
Youji turned to him with a (demonic) gleam in his eye. "After we get streaks in Omi's hair, it's your turn. This is fun!"  
  
I know this chapter isn't as good as the first one. I'm sorry! It's a lot shorter, too.  
  
Review! Please! I'm down on my knees here (philosophically). 


	3. “Does This Make Me Look Fat?”

Late Night Owl  
  
Disclaimer: The list of things that I do not own includes but is not restricted to: Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, which Omi refers to, Weiss, and Starbucks.  
  
Chapter three: "Does This Make Me Look Fat?"  
  
No!" cried the distraught Youji. "That *so* does not work! It's just- no!" Frustrated, he began pulling on his long blond hair before he realized what he was doing and stopped. That could cause split ends. He'd better be more careful in the future.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," said Ken. "I rather like it." A sudden thought struck him, and he turned so he could view his side in the mirror. "Except. does this make me look fat?"  
  
The shocked Aya snorted at the relative obscurity of the question.  
  
"No, it doesn't," the self-designated fashion consultant of the group admitted as he took his sunglasses off, "but," he snarled, "it does not bring out the natural highlights in your hair!"  
  
"But it *does* bring out my eyes!" Ken yelled in defense. This was true. The dark green shirt did seem to do that. "And it does wonders for my complexion!"  
  
Sighing as he viewed the argument while standing next to Aya, Omi began to dig in his pocket for change. Finding the correct amount, he turned to the older man and said, "You win. They are practically a couple of gay designers, like on TV, after all."  
  
The winner of the bet merely extended his hand, palm up, to collect the money, before placing it in his pocket.  
  
Soon after the exchange Omi ran off, seeing Youji about to strangle Ken.  
  
"Calm down, Youji!" urged an anxious Omi, nervously glancing towards the people who were pausing to watch. "If you don't stop, we'll get thrown out of this store as well!"  
  
In the last store they had been in, the men of Wiess had been politely but firmly told to never enter the shop again. Unless they wanted to earn a restraining order, that is. The manager there, never one to pass up a sale, had been careful to tell them this *after* they bought the clothes for Omi, of course. All this was due to their supposed assault on one of the employees there.  
  
It was not, Aya thought, their fault. Well, he admitted as he allowed his gaze to flicker briefly towards the young blond (who was currently trying to act as a mediator for Ken and Youji), not exactly. It was just because saleslady fainted when she got a good look at Omi dressed up like- like that. And the blood on the carpet from the nosebleed she got didn't help their case. She did not, however, wake up in time to help testify their case.  
  
The redhead went back to watching (with some amusement) the scene play out between the other three members.  
  
"We might get thrown out anyway, Omi, because Ken's erroneous fashion sense will scare away customers," Youji said between gritted teeth. He was, Aya decided, probably not going to have any brain damage despite the intensity of his banging his head against the wall. His skull was far too thick for that.  
  
"Hey! I resent that!" Ken, the speaker of that statement, didn't deserve the grief that the tall blond was giving him. He actually looked pretty good. Evidently, the brunette also had an eye for fashion.  
  
"But-"  
  
Cutting Youji off, Omi again tried to make peace. "Now, Youji." he started.  
  
The youngest member of Wiess was back in his normal clothes, and looked like his innocent self again. This made the tall redhead more relieved than he liked to admit. For reasons that he would rather not admit either. He decided he didn't like the way he felt so whatever it was when he saw Omi in that outfit. Normally, almost against his will Aya felt slightly drawn to the blond already, but.  
  
Not liking where it was going, he decided to put the thought out of mind.  
  
"Don't you agree, Aya?" The object of his thoughts (not that he would admit that, of course) was looking at him expectantly. He must have zoned out.  
  
Panicking, the leader of the group said the only thing that came to mind: "Hn."  
  
Omi turned around to face the other two, evidently satisfied. "See? He thinks so too!"  
  
The redhead nearly relaxed (how un-Aya like!) with relief.  
  
"Just let Ken buy this outfit. It could be worse, right?" Youji nodded sullenly, much like an upset three-year old who would have liked very much to throw a tantrum. Omi continued, still using the tone of voice that one reserved for little children. "Then, we'll just buy clothes for Aya, and we'll go home. After all, it's been a very exciting day, and I'm sure we're all a little high-strung from it."  
  
Ken smiled, happy that he had gotten his pick.  
  
Youji turned towards Aya with the maniac glint back in his eyes.  
  
Previous calm gone, the mentioned redhead was the only one of the group who did not find any of this reassuring, evidently.  
  
Review and I'll give you a cookie. Wait- I'm sorry, that was a lie. But if you review I will be very grateful and I just might write faster, which is not as good as a cookie, but it's something, right?  
  
To all who reviewed: I love you! After I read the reviews, I so HAPPY, and I think my mother was probably considering tranquilizers, since I was practically bouncing off the walls. 


	4. Movie Night

Late Night Owl  
  
Disclaimer: Let's see, I don't own Weiss Kruez, 10 Things I Hate About You, The Princess Diaries, Center Stage, or Cheetos. I don't *think* I forgot anything.  
  
Chapter four: Movie Night  
  
After a hitting all the sales during a shopping spree, many people come home from the mall weary (from Beating Those Stupid Women Away From My Shirt, Dammit, It's Going to Belong To Me) but happy, and weighted down by several bags. Such was the case with the members of Weiss. Youji was happy and full of energy, Ken was satisfied but slightly worn out, Omi's smile was beginning to ravel around the edges (and *that* took quite a bit), and while silent, Aya's glare seemed to have increased tenfold, if that was possible (On the way back, the redhead's icy gaze scared five dogs, three old ladies and one little kid. It was, Ken figured, a new record.) So if one adds all of these conditions together, it is true that the assassins came home tired, but happy.  
  
Shopping for Aya had proved to be a bit more difficult than expected. Youji had tried (not very tactfully) to steer Aya away from orange. It had worked in the end, but it had been a continuous battle. Also, the redhead had proved to be a bit taller than the standard sizes at most stores. Only slightly, but the blond had declared (loudly) that pants too short were a crime. Most of the other customers in the store had found his dramatics amusing.  
  
In any case, the assassins, finally safe, flopped down on the couches in the basement and dropped their bags. It doubled as a living room for them. Persia found this out once, and had gone ballistic. Something, Ken vaguely remembered, about top secret bases and how people might wander down there if they realized that the basement was commonly used, and something about how incriminating evidence could be discovered and their cover could be blown. Nothing important.  
  
After a few moments, Ken asked, "Hey, why didn't we have to shop for Youji?"  
  
Aya nodded. It didn't seem quite fair that they had to go through this and he didn't.  
  
"Because, my dears, I already *have* all the clothes I need to go clubbing," the blond told them.  
  
"Yes," Ken admitted, "But we're supposed to go undercover. You have to wear things *different* than what we wear every day."  
  
"I'll have you know that I have a completely different wardrobe for clubbing, thankyouverymuch!"  
  
Aya said, "That's useless."  
  
"Aw, what do *you* know anyway? You don't even have a girlfriend."  
  
"Neither do you," Ken told him. "Technically."  
  
"You know, Aya," said Omi thoughtfully, "Perhaps you shouldn't have glared at that saleslady so."  
  
Aya turned to glare at *him* for that remark.  
  
The youngest member continued, seemingly oblivious to Aya's glaring. "We had to do an awfully lot of fast talking to avoid a restraining order." Glaring is not normally grounds for such a thing, but people tend to ignore that idea when it comes to Aya. "She was just making a simple suggestion."  
  
"A simple suggestion," the redhead muttered indignantly, "does not include such-such rude comments!" And, he added silently, she patted my rear end.  
  
Youji went over to Aya and considered draping his arm around his shoulders but decided against it; he wanted to keep that arm. "She was just hitting on you, my friend. You should've just gone along with it! She was pretty cute!" He pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and took a look at the phone number he'd gotten from her. The "fast talking" that Omi mentioned was actually more like "sweet talking" that resulted somehow in Youji getting a date.  
  
The lanky blond then turned his attention towards Omi. "Now, Omitichi, we need to get to work on your hair."  
  
"My hair?"  
  
"Yes, we're going to put streaks in it, remember?" After a brief search through a box he kept in the basement, Youji pulled out and triumphantly held up a small box of hair dye.  
  
The victim of choice winced. He had assumed Yo-tan had forgotten about it, since they hadn't gone to a salon.  
  
"It's a lot cheaper to do it at home, and it'll look great on you." Youji started pulling stuff out of the box.  
  
"Oh!" Ken exclaimed as an idea struck him. "I'll go get snacks! We can have a little make-over party, or a sleep-over or something!" He then proceeded to flounce up the stairs the stairs, presumably to get snacks, like he said.  
  
Aya just stared at all of them. Omi was, though wide-eyed in horror, submitting meekly, the diabolical gleam was back in Youji's eyes, and Ken was probably going to giggle like one of the girls who came to their shop. They were, Aya figured, going to break out the hair curlers and nail polish any second now.  
  
Well, maybe not the nail polish, but he knew for a fact that the tall blond had curlers. He had seen him wearing them once (along with the facial mask and the cucumbers over the eyes). Nightmares had plagued Aya for weeks afterwards. Even now, he shuddered at the memory.  
  
Ken came back down the stairs with popcorn, chips, soda, and some videos. "You're awfully quiet, Aya," he said, interrupting the redhead's thoughts.  
  
"Hn."  
  
"Oh," the brunette said, looking sad and sympathetic as if Aya had just told him a huge sob story. Then he brightened. "I know what'll cheer you right up! I've brought some of my favorite movies." The redhead winced. "Here, let me show you," he added, putting the concessions down on the table.  
  
Aya looked skeptical. He knew Ken's taste in this sort of thing.  
  
"I've got." Ken said as he propped the case up so he could gesture towards it like those girls do the prizes on Jeopardy. "10 Things I Hate About You. Always a good one, not matter how many times one sees it." At this, Omi nodded emphatically in agreement. "Also The Princess Diaries, which is a personal favorite of mine. And last but certainly not least, The Wedding Planner. Oh, I almost forgot! Center Stage!"  
  
Silently, the leader of the group groaned.  
  
The youngest member of the group bounced up and down with excitement until his supposed hairdresser told him to stop before he ended up mangling his hair.  
  
"Those are stupid movies. I don't want to watch them," Youji interjected, trying to sound disgusted. In reality, he liked movies like those. He had a library of romantic comedies hidden carefully behind his "romance" movies (which weren't too horribly romantic, if their R rating was any indication) in his room. And that collection he had made pretty hard to find if one didn't know where it was.  
  
Looking disappointed, Ken started gathering up the movies. Seeing this, Youji decided he had to act fast. "But," he added with a disdainful sniff, "I will if you insist."  
  
Cheering, the ex-soccer player put the first movie in the VCR.  
  
Aya put his head in his hands. Idly, he wondered what Persia would do if he knew that they used the screen in the basement for TV and movies, too. He then thought back guiltily to the 24-hour Audrey Hepburn fest last month and decided that telling him would not be a good revenge.  
  
A quick peek told him that Omi was enjoying it. The young blond (who now had a few red streaks in his hair) was laughing while Youji was telling him to stop it, but laughing himself. Ken was eating popcorn between giggles.  
  
Well, Aya thought while stealing another glance at Omi, at least someone's enjoying it. The redhead then opened up a bag of Cheetos and glared violently at Ken when he suggested they braid hair. ("But everyone *else* gets to do it at sleepovers, Aya!")  
  
I'm really not satisfied with this chapter. But review anyway, please! I was going to make it black streaks in Omitichi's hair, because I wasn't really sure and it was random selection, but the wonderful people who reviewed said red. ^_^ Oh, and if anyone was looking for it, I'm sorry that I didn't show the shopping trip for Aya. I just didn't want to make half the story about their shopping expeditions, as wonderful as that would be. And shopping for Aya would be hard to write. _ 


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